randomly philosophical, as it were

[floatingleaf]

So, I found this old journal of mine in a bedroom drawer in my parents' house. I had started writing in it while I still lived in Poland, and I took it with me when I moved to the US. It's rather angsty and depressing, for the most part, but it also mentions something magical I hadn't thought about in a long time. Something that happened during my first trip to Greece (in 1996). And I think it's a perfect topic for the next installment of the fabled 30-day meme...



Oh, I know this is cheating. Technically, it should be about a recent moment, not one from 17 years ago. BUT. I've been doing this meme for about three years so far, so obviously I have a peculiar approach to the concept of time. *smirk* Mostly, it eludes me, or I don't have a clue where it goes, or it seems to stop for me while it moves on for everybody else. ANYWAY... some magical moments live on in a sort of timeless void for me, and this is one of those.

It was late at night, and I was sitting somewhere in a tavern. I think I was alone at that point - the other girls from our group, with whom I was sharing the hotel room, had already gone back. I was just being my usual "silent observer" self, sipping wine slowly, watching the people around me, listening to the music. I was tired, but I couldn't make myself leave yet, because the music was seeping right through my soul, the way Greek music always does, and I was thinking, just one more song and then I'll go, and then just one more... And then this young woman stepped out onto the dancefloor (which was really just a bit of empty space between the chairs). She was beautiful - with very long, black, curly hair tied behind her neck, and a classic Greek profile that reminded me of antique paintings on clay vessels. And God... how she danced. Slowly, sensuously, totally lost to the music, bending backwards so far that her hair almost brushed the floor... It was infinitely seductive, but precisely because, as far as I could see, she wasn't "putting on a show" for anyone; she was just being herself, dancing with herself, perfectly comfortable in her own skin, letting the music carry her through the night. I was transfixed... and I think in that moment I understood - in a very visceral way - the roots of my fascination with Mediterranean culture. I wanted to be like that, and I never could. Or rather, some very deep, hidden core of me was like that, but I (let alone anybody else) hardly ever got to glimpse it through the endless layers of paralyzing self-consciousness and reserve. Which is also why I have always fallen in love with people who are like that - comfortable with themselves, free-spirited, confident - and felt piteously inadequate next to them. When I think about it in this context, the whole idea of me having been Greek in another lifetime takes on a different meaning; maybe I was this free, brave and limitless spirit in another lifetime, and I long for it even as I search for brief reflections of it in people around me. Or maybe it's my own private version of longing for the divine. Which is one and the same thing, really, in the end.

Comments

[tindomerel.livejournal.com]

Beautiful, magical moment and insight. :)

[floatingleaf.livejournal.com]

Thank you.:)

[goddessofchaos.livejournal.com]

I also envy people who can be totally free and unselfconscious. It's quite a rare thing, I think - most of us fear making a fool of ourselves, or coming across badly to others. It's funny - a lot of the time I don't care whether other people like me, but I still care too much about not looking stupid and behaving in a way that's totally appropriate and won't draw negative attention.

[floatingleaf.livejournal.com]

I know! I am no longer as clinically shy as I was in my childhood and early youth - I haven't been for years. And sometimes I really don't give a damn about other people's opinion of me. And yet, the self-consciousness is always there. "Do these pants make my belly seem grotesquely huge? Does my hair look stupid? Do I have a big, disgusting zit in the middle of my forehead AGAIN?" On and on it goes. *weary sigh*

[taelyn-sass.livejournal.com]

What a wonderful moment! It makes a magical memory, yes?

[floatingleaf.livejournal.com]

Yes, it does.:)

[gaia-child.livejournal.com]

I can somehow, in your longing, find my true reflection. I couldn't put it into words as well as you did - but - yeah, there is a little girl inside, so strained, reserved and afraid of the criticism, always admiring confident, free-spirited, as you put it, people.

[floatingleaf.livejournal.com]

This is true for so many women I know. I wonder if it's just our personalities, or the culture we grew up in...

[gaia-child.livejournal.com]

I bet it's neither personality thing nor culture...rather the way of upbringing, the parental style... I wonder for example how much of my cheerful personality was killed by my authoritarian dad and ever-complaining and criticising mum:(

[floatingleaf.livejournal.com]

I think it's a combination of all these factors - but yes, the parents definitely play a huge part. Actually, when I said "culture", I meant all the external influences, parents included (parenting styles are also shaped by the culture, to a large extent). And I know all about constant criticism that makes you feel like you're never good enough... My mom was like that too. She had no idea what she was doing to me. But I do think that this type of perfectionist, ultra-critical parenting - particularly when it comes to girls - is a big part of the culture we both grew up in...